The cargo ship Jane Vosper is en route from London to South America when four mysterious explosions in the hold send her to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. The crew take to the lifeboats and are rescued, and a coronial enquiry in London finds the sinking was no fault of theirs. The shipping company hires a private detective to investigate, and when he too disappears the case becomes one for Chief Inspector Joseph French.
French's method is slow but sure; he interviews, searches and deduces, and gradually the whole resources of the British police are called in to uncover what turns out to be a diabolical plot. There are lots of dead ends, but when the criminals are finally apprehended, French has more than enough evidence to make the hanging charges stick.
The seaborne scenes are done well and so is the enquiry. French is dogged rather than inspired, and if his maths were a little better he could have solved the whole case much sooner. But it is all entertaining stuff. I was particularly amused to read Crofts' offhand comment on the inquiry proceedings: 'Not a single woman or girl was present; all were men.' A modern writer would get themselves into all sorts of trouble that way.
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